Goodbye, Onceler
by clautchy
Summary: Last request: 'Can you write kind of a bromance, brotherly oncest fic? It can be with any plot you want. I'd just love to see that kind of oncest since we rarely see it here.' Angst; what happened to the Greedler after he realises his mistakes.


"_... And nothing is going to stop me_!"

Both heads turned at this very point to the wood-cutting machine, which at this point looked quite pathetic as it approached a lone Truffula tree whose tufts were slipping off almost unhappily. The machine drew back the large axe on the end of its trunk, and with one swift move it dove its blade into the base of the grey-striped trunk, a perfect cut. The tree spent a second tottering on its stump until the weight of the tufts were too much and gravity pulled down the grand yet lonely tree, crashing down onto the ground, splinters crackling from underneath it, a large cloud of dust and smog billowing up from below.

As the wood-cutting machine reversed, the Once-ler stood in both shock and a realisation that he had only just come to terms with – and far too late.

"That's it, the very last one," the Lorax stated but with a great sadness in his voice, his voice hoarse and croaky. Probably the smoke, "That may stop you." The creature raised its head to glance up at the Once-ler, who although was leaning over, still stood over him. The Once-ler's eyes widened and his dark eyebrows lifted themselves, the tense muscles relaxing themselves after so many years of horrendous, _greedy _work, gone.

Everything was suddenly clear; all the mistakes he had made and the problems he had overlooked, the homes he had destroyed, the animals that he hurt, the hearts that he broke. It was like he had been blinded by his own want and need of money, fame and fortune that he had ignored and disregarded the true nature of his money-making scheme. From the $3.98 he had once so innocently began with, things like product demand, the share market and a booming enterprise raised the prices, adding taxes, putting on interest, and all sorts of devious devices just so he could satisfy his need for taking more profit.

By creating the machines rather than hiring workers, he had less money to give out and more to keep, the machines being far more efficient in deforestation than the workers ever would be.

But it came with a price. It came with the decline of fresh air, the never-ending smog, the constant clouded skies and of course, because of him, the hospitals were always crowded, the animals were dying, and most of all...

_The trees were gone_.

He felt every part of him want to collapse with guilt. He wanted to disappear, and unfortunately, he was afraid that it might be just that.

His mother and the rest of the family deserted him. The Lorax guided the remainder of the animals to find a safer home – somewhere far away from here – and the Lorax himself ascended into the skies, maybe never to be seen from again. Who knew.

But what didn't leave him, or rather, what he refused to leave, would be a burden that he would live with for the rest of his days, something that he had violated, hurt, sometimes even _loved_.

Himself.

The pair had discussed the strange occurrence between each other. They believed they were still the same person, however the conscience of the Once-ler was split into two, therefore, creating two bodies. The Once-ler was worried however, as now... Now he felt empty. Now there was nothing that would satisfy him, upon realising all that he had inflicted upon every living creature.

Some days, he would sit alone in his office, the windows shut and the door locked. He could still smell the pollution, the _guilt_.

_For fuck's sake_, he would think_, you'd think the smog would've cleared up by now, since the factory has shut down_.

But then he would remember the many uses of trees and the wonders they held, one of those many wonders including _life_ and _oxygen_. He was still beating himself up for it. If there was only something he could do.

A knock on the door interrupted his train of thought. He snapped his head up. Why should he even bother with the knocking? He called out permission anyway, seeing the younger and innocent version of himself walk in, his fingers entwined together nervously and his blue-grey eyes seeming a lot more grey than usual.

"You doing okay?" Oncie asked softly. Caring.

The Once-ler nodded, just the once, "Yeah. Great."

Oncie sighed, "Get up. We'll go for a walk. You need to get out of the office," he inhaled, strained, "It's even worse in here than it is outside."

"Don't wanna walk."

The Once-ler gave in quickly after Oncie gave him _that look_ and soon the pair were dawdling outside, both heads lowered. There was nothing to say, nothing to be shared. All was deserted, lost and gone. The people had made themselves a new home, _Thneedville_, protected by the city walls and a non-organic environment with fresh air commercially sold.

Abruptly, the younger stopped and peered down at the ground. The Once-ler turned around, frowning as he watched his younger self crouch down and pick up a small, brown pebble. Oncie turned it over a few times in his palm, inspecting it, and then let a smile creep up onto his face. He hadn't smiled for a while.

"What's it?"

Oncie stood back up, holding the pebble out to him, "Look at it. It's a seed. An _actual seed_." He looked genuinely pleased by his discovery, holding it up near both of their faces for a better view, "We can plant it, and let it grow, and it can drop its own seedlings, and we can plant them too, and water them all, and then we can make things right!"

The Once-ler, although the same height, looked down to Oncie. He had to remember that Oncie _was_ younger than himself, and sometimes that made him look over the true problems, or not understand the situation completely.

"Oncie," he said sadly, "Look at the state of the soil. It's not fertilised. It's too dry for anything to grow in it."

The boy looked down, his once hopeful face dropping with despair, clutching the seed in a tight fist, "Then what are we going to do?"

"We'll wait for the right time. Unless there's good soil and a shining sun, then we can only wait for someone with the answer."

Oncie raised his head, "_Unless_," he echoed, "The Lorax left that there. For us."

The Once-ler shook his head, "Not for us. For you."

"Wh-what do you mean by that?" Oncie's eyes were filled with fear, afraid of what his doppelganger was trying to say. He knew that the older Once-ler was fuelled by greed – but that was no longer the case. He had become an empty shell.

"Nothing," he disregarded Oncie's question and scared expression, "Don't worry about it." He himself feared for the pair of them. For once in his life he had never been so questionable about the future, so scared for the tangible. But the truth was evident; he was a copy and a manifestation created from Oncie's mind. Oncie may be safe as he was a real person, but the greedy Once-ler? Oh, who knew what would happen to him.

Without another word said, both Once-lers headed back towards the desolate and slowly dilapidating house; a grand mansion now standing only to rot and crumble from beneath them.

It had been three weeks since they found the seed. The Once-ler had taken the seed from Oncie and hid it in a small pocket in the fingertip of his glove. Oncie had fretted over its sudden disappearance but the Once-ler would not tell him its whereabouts. The seed was better to be put away; untouched by human hands.

But by now, Oncie had found a new problem to fret over: the beginning of a depression that only continued to spiral downwards with the never-ending silence. The Once-ler hadn't spoken for six days, and Oncie was becoming increasingly worried for his future self.

He didn't sleep much, if at all, and spent most of his time in his office. He didn't do anything; he just sat in the grand red chair and stared into nothingness. Sometimes he stared out the window and lamented his grief of the devastation he had created and caused.

_It hurt him_.

It hurt him to the point where he was in physical pain. His skin became a murky and sickly grey, his eyelids dark and heavy with black rings around his hollow eye sockets. His once so pristine and pressed green suit was crumpled, torn and used. He didn't even care.

Oncie allowed him to grieve over his mistakes, fearing his intervention would only worsen the situation. Mostly, he wished that the Once-ler would crawl back out of his cocoon of solitude and talk to Oncie. Did the Once-ler not know that he could talk to Oncie about his feelings? After all, it was always better for someone to admit their feelings rather than bottle them up inside.

But when the Once-ler did finally approach Oncie… He wished it wasn't like _this_.

"O-Oncie," he sobbed, "I… I've made a decision."

"What is it?" Oncie asked gingerly, reaching for the Once-ler's hands. He entwined their fingers together, pressing his forehead against his, "Tell me."

The Once-ler shuddered, trying to stop his crying. He sniffed loudly, "I'm going…" he gulped, "I'm going to k-kill myself."

_I'm going to kill myself_.

The words echoed over and over through Oncie's head, almost freezing his thought process. They screamed at him. He was completely distraught over the very idea; to even _think_ that the Once-ler would consider such a horrible deed, it made him want to hold him closer, whisper everything was going to be okay, that there was _nothing to worry about._

But he was already drawing a gun from his breast pocket; a small hand gun, capable of conflicting so much damage, maybe even _death_. And there was the Once-ler, holding his own fate in his very hands, shaking and sobbing.

"Don't do it," Oncie pleaded, having one go at trying to prise the gun from the other's hands, but the Once-ler held on tightly, "_Don't!_"

The Once-ler exploded with rage, "Shut the _fuck_ up, Oncie! You don't know what I've been put through! This is none of your business!" he clicked the safety lock and pressed the barrel of the gun to his head, collapsing to his knees as he did so. The tears streamed down his face as he tried to steady his hand, his finger on the trigger.

"It is my business!" Oncie shrieked, his mind racing, "_Please_," he began to cry himself, dropping down to the Once-ler's level, his whole being beginning to break down. He had never been so afraid in his life. Quietly, with all the strength he had left, he managed to muster, "You're all I have left."

If not for those few words, the Once-ler probably would have pulled the trigger. His bottom jaw quavered and the seconds ticked by like time had almost stopped, and after what seemed like an age, he lowered the gun, placing it on the floorboards, letting it slip out of his fingers reluctantly.

"Oh God, thank you, _thank you_," Oncie leaned over, pulling in the Once-ler for a tight hug, like he was reassuring himself that he was still there in front of him, breathing, alive. The pair stayed like that for a long time, both still, the only sounds heard being their muffled cries.

_I'm sorry._

That night, the Once-ler decided to lay with Oncie. He hadn't slept in so long and it was beginning to show. After the whole ordeal, he craved nothing more than to lie beside his younger self. It was not something he had ever done. He was willing to try.

He peeled off his dirty suit and placed it on the back of a small study chair in their bedroom, slipping in between the heavy sheets and the mattress. Tucking in his legs, he snuggled against Oncie who wrapped his long arms around the shivering Once-ler.

The night was particularly dark and even the creaking floorboards were quiet. Their slow breathing penetrated the eerie silence, bodies touching comfortably but with no further intention.

"Oncie," the older mumbled, breaking the silence, "y-you know why I'm here. With you."

"Because you're scared," Oncie replied softly, feeling suddenly sick in the pit of his stomach. There was something else…

"I think I've known this was going to happen for a while," the Once-ler whispered, thinking out loud, "I just didn't want to admit it. Didn't want to accept it."

Oncie's breath became ragged, exhaling loudly from his mouth, a small puff of cold air visible, "Wh-what are you talking about?"

_I'm just a figment of your imagination._

Did he hear those words, or were they simply all in his head? A cold shiver ran down his spine and he shifted closer to the Once-ler, finding his hand to hold for comfort. The Once-ler's hand was cold and papery, _fake_.

Oncie dared not to open his eyes, afraid of what he might see, or rather, what he might not see. What he might see through. His teeth clattered together, the thick blankets not providing any warmth to his shivering body whatsoever. A single tear rolled down the side of his face, dampening the mattress the size of a fifty cent piece. He was so afraid.

The next morning, Oncie woke up alone, not even an imprint left in the mattress. The only reminder Oncie had that he had ever might have existed was the green suit which he had left on the chair.

The Once-ler was finally gone.

* * *

**AN:** I know this isn't brotherly or a bromance, but I wasn't really sure how the pair would interact in this instance. I, myself, do not have any other siblings so I'm at a loss on this topic. Furthermore, I've had some problems with my body again and I was a bit angsty and all over the place on the weekend. Venting for a bit, I kind of had cancer a while back and now there's some further problems so I have to go back to the hospital for tests to see if I'm all okay and urgh I do not like hospitals and I do not want to be sick again.

So I suppose a few reviews would be nice; also because I'm actually kind of pleased how this came out, despite its saddening nature. And yes, the gun scene was inspired from the askgreedlerandoncie RP blog where Greedler said he deserved to be shot.

Anyway, interpret their relationship how you will. Feel free to fill in the gaps in time which I did not detail with your own imaginations. It's always been a headcanon of mine that if oncest was a real thing in the movie, then Greedler would basically just disappear while they slept. Hopefully I managed to get this image across.


End file.
